


The Night

by krask



Series: Love Against Time [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Fluff and Humor, Headcanon, M/M, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krask/pseuds/krask
Summary: One Night in Dugout Inn. Is this how it started? Is this how it ended? Is it a peak of a love story or just an occasion? This timeline has no rules.





	1. Dugout Inn

**Author's Note:**

> You can read it as a part of a series, you can read it as a separate piece. In my mind it all comes to a time screwing headcanon, and therefore could be assigned to a series, Love Against Time. Series right now partially is in russian, partially in english, but I'm hoping to get it fully in both languages.

— …but when I wanna deathclaw named…

— We already had this conversation, Deacon. I said before and I’ll say it again: you have my permission to go for it. But you’re all talk, aren’t ya?

— Yes I am. Got me. But again: imagine Preston’s face! Or better yet, your favourite soldier boy Dance: ‘It’s an abomination!!!’. God, I’d pay to see that.

— Do you think Strong would wanna take a bite?

— Of a deathclaw? Definitely. On the second thought, maybe on the contrary, he’d pay his respects, for being… strong and all that.

— And then eat it.

— Oh yeah. Or not?

— Wanna bet?

— On Strong’s decision making? That’s just pure lottery.

— That’s the whole point!

— Alright then. I’ll go with eating though. That fellow doesn’t look the type to be making friends.

— How so? What about me?

— What about you? I always assumed he’s just saving you for later. Feeding you. Giving you extra rations, cakes and such.

— Come on, lay off him, he’s not so bad. I feel like we’re almost friends.

— Oh yeah?

— Yeah!

— Besties then, ha? I wander what deep meaningful conversations you two might have when I’m not around. ‘I am supermutant! You are not a supermutant! I am superior than you!’

— You forgot ‘prettier’.

— Oh, I thought it was too obvious to mention. Wait, supermutants don’t have women, right?

— I haven’t seen one.

— Yeah, me neither. They only use FEV to make more of themselves.

— Okay…

— So. If they’re all men…

— Yeah?

— Does it mean they’re all gay?

— Or… asexual? I would bet on that one actually.

— Or..

— Don’t start with the penis jokes again, man. It’s not funny to ridicule poor bastards, who don’t even understand what you’re talking about. Besides, these gym rat jokes weren’t much fun to begin with back in my days.

— Okay, okay. Sensitive much? — Deacon kept his usual poker face on, but the faintest sarcastic smile slipped along his lips.

— Yeah, very funny.

— I’m just saying, the size doesn’t really matter…

— Deacon… Just stop.

— You sure look like you know how to use it...

— …

— I mean…

— Yeah, okay.

— OK?

— Mhm.

— Well, this is awkward.

— Yep.

— I’m gonna go grab another beer. You want something?

— Nah, I’m good.

— See ya.

Deacon quickly got up from his chair and disappeared in the evening crowd. It took him awhile to get back.

— Hey, I’m back. Missed me?

— Were you gone?

— Yeah, yeah, very funny. I bet your best friend Strong would appreciate a joke like that.

— That he will. You’re underestimating him, aren’t you?

— I bet you’re not. He might be pretty good in bed too, ha? Keeping pace for hours and what not? Using his big mighty supermutant powers…

— Seriously, back to this again? I’m starting to think you’re jealous, Deacon.

— Jealous? Why would I be jealous? — He barely moved back and frowned a little bit, but in his case it was almost an outrage.

— I don’t know. You sound weird.

— I just haven’t seen you in a long time, that’s all. Who knows what kind of naughty decisions you might’ve made after sending me away…

— You can ask Curie, I’m sure she’s the one person alive that would never lie to anybody.

— She probably is, isn’t she… — Deacon stretched his arms and legs, moaning. — I wanna grab a smoke now.

— I think Vadim wouldn’t mind.

— Nah, I wanna go outside. Come on, it’s not like there is a nuclear winter out there. — Deacon suddenly reached out to him and gently stroked his hand down his shoulder. He carelessly, but very softly touched a tiny bit of the naked neck with the end of his thumb first and ended up sliding his palm between his fingers, taking the breath away. It was easier to believe that the nuclear war never happened than that all of this somehow was just an accident. So he responded slowly, having trouble recognizing his own voice:

— Ahem … Yeah, sure…

In this very moment everything started to make sense. All that half-joking flirting, all the weird looks Deacon gave him, all the hoarsely said promises… A second later he realized that Deacon’s hand was still in his grasp and it started to feel like burning. He raised his head and looked straight in Deacon’s widely opened eyes. The sudden disappearance of his usual shady glasses was overwhelming. Deacon apparently felt that too: he bit his lip and took the hand away, promptly putting the glasses back on:

— Well, I’ll wait for you outside then.


	2. Diamond City

Bright red neon signs in the darkness of the night. Couple of folks chatting and drinking at the table near the entrance. Deacon, unnoticeable as ever, was already smoking while casually leaning against the wall; he saw him, stood up and approached, getting rid of a cigarette stub on the way:

— Hey, let’s go somewhere more quiet.

— Sure…

…

Awkward silence was finally broken as they were walking by Takahashi and Deacon asked:

— Hungry?

— Nope.

— Good, me neither, let’s keep going then… Stay you, T-bot!

— I take it, you have a plan then?

— That I do… By the way do you think, Nick is able to drink?

— I don’t know… Maybe? He smokes, right? Even if it’s unlikely that he has to…

— Well, not everybody has to have an addiction, you pre-war junkie… Some people just like to keep a habit.

— A habit, ha, that’s how you call it. How many packs of cigarettes do you vaporize every day again?

— Well, I mostly meant Nick…

— Sure, sure… So where are we? I can barely see… Aah! — Suddenly he misstepped and almost slipped into the water, but Deacon happen to grab him first.

As he was catching his breath that he lost either from falling into the dark and cold abyss beneath him, or from being pressed so close to the warm man’s body, he turned to his rescuer, almost pressing his face to his; and only when brisk flashy lights reflected on surface and brought the invisible black glasses back, he realized that he was imagining something that probably wasn’t there. A second later he was finally released from embrace, and the distance between them allowed him to resume conversation, as they continued to walk:

— Good to know Travis is working late.

— And here I am thinking that girl of his, what was her name, would keep him occupied…

— Her name is Scarlett, and I think that didn’t work out well.

— Hah, well, I did say, it could backfire at him. So now he is all alone, listening to blues in the middle of the night…

— Wanna come visit?

— Nah, not tonight. Maybe someday. Kid’s pretty smart, don’t you think?

— So it was you who made him praise the Railroad on his show?

— Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I figured he’s just not ignorant of your actions, that’s all…

— Now that you mentioned, he really seems to talk a lot about things I’ve set in motion…

— See! You have yourself a fan now, don’t you? Well, another one.

— What’s that supposed to mean?

— Ahem, nothing really. Here, give me a hand — Deacon climbed up the stands first and helped him up. — Hope you didn’t get too much dirt on that pretty red dress of yours…

— Nah, I don’t think anything’s able to make it any dirtier now.

He sat on the stadium seat next to Deacon’s and asked after briefly admiring the view.

— So, why are we here?

— Why not?

— …

— Well, actually…

— Please don’t tell me Tinker Tom wants me to put another one of those heavy things somewhere on the top of the stadium…

— No, not to my knowledge. Better not to give him any idea though. And in our current state of inebriation I would suggest not to climb anything higher than those steps.

He wasn’t able to overcome the temptation to stand up and look down to the middle of a stadium and immediately regretted that decision, as he started to feel dizzy.

— Ooooh!

— Easy there, pal… — Deacon took him by the shoulders and helped him sit back down:

— I would offer you my jacket or something, but local guards don’t seem to wear any…

— That’s okay. I like cool weather for a change. Running around with loads of gear behind your back doesn’t exactly allow one to feel chilly, you know.

— Oh, you’re asking if I know? Just so you know, I happen to carry a lot of worthless scrap for a friend of mine. He’s quite a collector. Some say he’s a king of garbage black market. Selling all of this ‘not junk’ items for billions and billions of caps…

— Now you sound just like Preston. Either he patronizes me or he’s truly convinced that I’m getting a better price on this stuff somehow. And all I’m trying to do is gathering materials, so I could build all these things you lot ask me to. Beds, turrets, mansions or whatever…

Deacon’s relaxed look began to worry him:

— So why did you brought me here anyway?

— Oh, here? Nothing, forget it.

— Come on, now I have to know.

— Well, I was kinda hoping you’ll teach me how to play, coach… — Deacon’s cat-like slow moves and shy lowered eyes in open sight were clearly luring him somewhere, but he was a willing target.

— Play? What? You mean baseball?

— Well, yes. But now, when I’m thinking of it, it seems like the dumbest idea ever, so just ignore it.

— Hah… Well it’s not really… dumb… but… I gotta tell you, even though I do know about baseball tiny little bit more than Moe, I haven’t actually played it much. I’m not really a team player. Never was.

— Yeah, I can see that.

— Ahmm?

— I mean… — Deacon finally stopped his game, reached out and quickly kissed him on the mouth. It was a brief touch of bristle with a strong sour smell of cigarettes and beer. A moment later he was back in his lair, licking his lips with a distinct look of content on a slightly drunk face.

He kissed him back: long, wet, hand on his scratchy cheek. Deacon wrapped his hands around him and made him seat on his lap. He pulled back from kisses for a moment:

— Are you sure, it’s not too heavy for you?

— What, you? Nah… Funny you never asked me that before handing over a minigun.

— And I regret that. Deeply. I didn’t realized you were gonna use it. You’re terrible with it.

— And what was I suppose to do? I was out of everything else, and I’m more of a sniper actually.

— Sure you are…

After giggling and smiling they returned to kissing, and now Deacon’s hands were all over him, including under the shiny fabric. Then he suggested, fidgeting in the short dress:

— Maybe go back to the inn?

— Yeah, and never hear the end of it?

— You think they’re homophobic?

— Nah, they just talk too much, that’s all.

— Well, let them talk. What harm could come out of that?

— I can make you a list.

He got tired of trying to get comfortable and stood up, trembling:

— There is literally no way for us to endanger each other any more then we already did. Isn’t everybody out to get us both anyway? Well, besides a couple of friendly exceptions. And it seems to me that you and I can stand our own…

— I guess so …

— Then what’s the harm?

— Okay, you got me. Let’s go to Bobrov’s…

— Wait, just like that? I convinced you?

— Yeah. You gotta take ‘Yes’ for an answer, didn’t nobody teach you that?.. — Deacon got up from a seat and drew him closer for another kiss.


	3. A room

The moment the door closed behind them, he took Deacon in his arms and pressed him to the wall with his own body. It got heated pretty fast, but suddenly Deacon turned his head to the side and said very quietly:

— Hey, ahmm… I gotta tell you something…

— What, right now? Okay, what is it?

— Well… Ahem… Nothing really. Maybe I should go…

— Hey, Deacon, it’s me, tell me, what is it?

Deacon finally looked him in the eyes for a split second and then neatly slipped under his hands so quickly that his moves were barely noticeable, and in the next moment he was already sitting on the bed. It looked like he needed that exact distance to start talking, so it was wise not to get any closer:

— Look… Oh… Remember how I told you I was a girl for a few months? Well, there’s a little bit more than that.

— Okay?.. How so?

— Well. You know… Gender is so 2077.

— I agree. I am the guy who wears so called ‘female dresses’, in case you haven’t noticed.

— Yeah, I have. And you look gorgeous. But it’s more than just that. See… I have a vagina. Yeah, now I’ve said it.

— You what? Wait, are you testing me with more of your tricks again?

— I see why you might think so, but no, I'm not. Why would I, if you’re gonna see it in a minute. Well, if you’d still want to, that is.

— O-kay…

— Look, the important thing is… I don’t want you to think that something has changed about me. I’m the same guy that I was before I told you. Are you sure you’re OK with it though? I can always hit the road.

— Of course I am. Just because I’m more than 200 years old doesn’t mean I’m old fashioned. Come over here…

He still stood near the wall where Deacon left him and opened his arms wide in anticipation, trying his best to process, but without showing it on his face. He wasn’t sure if the alcohol in his system was making it easier or harder.

Finally Deacon got up from the bed, approached him and stepped into his tight embrace. He hold him and felt him trembling, but with arousal or nerves — he couldn’t tell. In any case kissing him seemed like a good idea, so he closed his eyes and slid slowly on his face, cheek to cheek, until his drying lips gently touched his.

— Are you… sure? — said Deacon with low hoarse voice, clearly feeling threatened by the fear of rejection.

— Yes, silly. — He whispered in his mouth. — I want you.

Familiar faint cocky smile returned to Deacon’s face:

— So close… I can get nervous…

— That voice of yours turns me on. Keep talking…

— Oh yeah?

Deacon laughed, stepped back and started loosening his armor. After showing off his skills in changing clothes, a minute later he was wearing nothing but white briefs:

— Rawr. That sounded hot, right?

— Nah… You can do better than that.

— Can I? — Deacon said softly and teasingly, as he approach him swinging hips. He took ahold of his shoulders and moved the strips of the red dress aside, kissing his skin gently all the way to the neck and making him dizzy with pleasure.

He stroked Deacon’s cheek and drew him closer for a kiss. His fingers went behind Deacon’s ear and almost underneath the pompadour wig. He stopped and asked worryingly:

— Can I?

— Sure.

He massaged his temples and carefully pulled the wig up.

— So how do you like me more? Bold or with a wig on?

— Hmmm… Both? Neither? Maybe you should try different wigs for a change?

— I don’t know about that… Not everybody looks good with long hair, Cinderella.

— Hah!

Still slightly smiling, Deacon caressed his silver hair and unbound the ponytail. As his locks fell free, he moved his shoulders relieving his hands from straps. Dress rustled and fell to the floor.


	4. Morning

— YOU DIDN’T HEAR ME? DO I NEED TO TALK LOUDER?

Deacon sorely growled, unhappy to be woken up. Lying beside him, he chuckled and opened his eyes for a split second, just to turn to the right side and lie down on Deacon’s flat chest. He then hugged him and stroked his bare back. They lied like that for a minute or two, listening to the world outside this room, world, where Vadim was happy and loud as usual, trying to sell someone a bit of moonshine despite the early hour.

Finally the deal was made, at list according to one participant of the bargain, and morning went back to be lazy and quiet. He raised himself on his elbow and looked down on a face that was still there. Calm, confident, with cunning wrinkles around smiling blue eyes. He drew himself closer and closer, until his lips covered the ones below him.

Kisses and touches grew more and more intense by the second, and both of them wearing underwear only did not help to cool down the temperature. At some point Deacon carefully pushed back and got on top of him, covering him with hundreds of kisses and with these muscled arms slowly pulling down his yellow lacy knickers. As they were down at his feet, he raised his body upwards, helping, eager to finally get fully undressed.

As soon as this was done, Deacon quickly stripped himself of his simple white briefs. The prosthesis was gone along with them, so now all that was there to be seen were dark curly hair, trimmed only near the hips, covering almost everything, except for an erect clitoris. Deacon, looking confident as ever, leaned to him, lying below, inserted slick tongue between his lips and grabbed him by the dick. His hand and tongue quickly synchronized in fucking him, and it started making him feel the need to give in entirely and lose control of his body. Deacon squeezed his hip between his thighs and bit him on the lip, and there it was…

Time went flying by him, and the world outside the small circle of their bodies did no longer exist. Whole universe was crushed by nails thrusting in tense skin, disintegrated by saliva dripping from the mouth. It was possible to feel everything and nothing, and it was like his soul suddenly found its way back to the era that was his by birth and left a glowing trail. It was only there for a split second, until it shuttered to the tiniest pieces. Were these his thoughts? Were these somebody’s memories? Were these visions of the future?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t something he or anybody else did remember. He came, and so did Deacon, and now both of them were breathing slowly, still trying to hold on to each other, as if they were pulled in opposite directions by a strong wind. For a moment, they were just there, embracing each other, slowly going back to the real world. Then Deacon let go of him and got out of bed, looking for his briefs and his cigarettes. He found them both on the floor, and as soon as his shiny white ass was covered, he licked his swollen from kisses upper lip and stuck a cigarette underneath it.

He turned away for a second, and Deacon was already sitting close to him on the shabby bed, offering him to smoke from his hands. He lowered his head and obeyed. He felt Deacon caressing his hear, so he lingered and held the air inside of him a little longer, and almost ended up coughing.

After a smoke they started getting dressed, and finally, not without a few distractions, made it to the door. Yefim was standing, just as usual, a couple feet away from it, near the entrance to the main hall.

— Enjoyed your stay? — Yefim was even more grim looking than usual and seemed to expect an answer.

— Ahem… Yeah? — He clear his throat and looked at him in confusion.

— So we’ve heard! I’m so glad you two are together! Finally! — His loud and ever so happy twin brother joined the conversation, swinging his hands so widely, it looked like he was expecting a hug.

He looked at Deacon with a sneaking suspicion that he had something to do with it, but genuinely startled look of his convinced him otherwise.

— Well, the walls here aren’t particularly thick, you know. And those beds… they’ve seen their share of trouble… — Yefim said apologetically, as his brother interrupted.

— Trouble? What trouble? This is looove! — Vadim finally found some use for his huge hands and clasped Yefim’s shoulders.

— He’s so happy because he just won 100 caps in a bet. I thought you two were just friends.

— And because I am very happy for you two! Now, let me pour you a drink. Come on! A drink for a happy couple! — Vadim actively nodded towards the bar.

— Actually, we gotta go.

— You’re sure? Eh, all right. Another time then. Come back later. You know where to find me. — As Vadim finally seemed to give up on getting them drunk and retreated to start planning their wedding, they evaluated the situation, understood each other without a word and started walking to the exit door so quickly, that they almost ran.

Outside, they looked at each other’s slightly embarrassed faces and laughed.

— Are you in a mood for some noodles, Deacon?

— Me? I’m always in that mood!

— Let us go then.


End file.
